


•Never Satisfied• (Fransykes)

by Asking4AHorizon



Series: One-Shots [10]
Category: Bring Me The Horizon, You Me At Six
Genre: Blow Jobs, Gun Kink, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Going to Hell, Kinky, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asking4AHorizon/pseuds/Asking4AHorizon
Summary: Josh needs something that will make him feel alive. Oliver's perfect for him.
Relationships: Josh Franceschi/Oliver Sykes
Series: One-Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726750
Kudos: 1





	•Never Satisfied• (Fransykes)

**Author's Note:**

> It could be better ngl but I don't wanna edit. Anyways, Happy Valentine's baes ❤

Everyone has that one thing that sets your soul on fire. That one thing that the mere thought of can bring you nothing but pure joy, something that can make your core vibrate in excitement. Something that makes you feel alive.

Many find that thrill in drawing, painting, writing, creating. Many find it in travelling, breathing new airs, sinking your toes in the sand. Or perhaps that thrill comes when you're dancing by yourself in your room at three am, no kind of judgement from no eyes but your own. But to many, that thrill might come in the little things. Buying shit whether for yourself or someone else, watching a TV show or listening to music.

Neither of those things could make Joshua feel alive. Of course, some of it was freeing, some of it was so nice, but neither carried the feeling that so many were exasperated about. There was nothing worse than the boredom that the lack of joy in activities brought along, especially when those activities were always hyped up wherever he went to.

And Joshua never truly believed that he'd ever find that thrill, that he would never have something that truly made his breath hitch in amazement, that he would never know true excitement. Joshua always felt quite hopeless regards these things. He just wanted to feel something that wasn't monotonous the way everything felt. Hell, he almost fell into several harming addictions because of that in all places of the spectrum of harmful — Alcohol, cigarettes, self-harm, eating disorders and so, so many more. But neither was Joshua's thing. Neither brought him a real throb on his heart, neither made his eyes sparkle. And there was nothing more frustrating for Joshua.

But oh, then he came along. He burst into Joshua's life with a side smirk and danger twinkling on his eyes and the moment he chose Joshua, he knew he was lost. Or maybe, not lost, maybe he was found. Oliver wasn't a boyfriend, wasn't and would never be a husband, wasn't the romantic kind of lover. But that's what made Oliver Oliver, right?

Joshua wasn't looking for a lover. Wasn't looking for late night walks, for silent cuddling sessions or slow little kisses. Joshua wasn't looking for tenderness. He was searching for something that made his heart skip a beat.

And that was all Oliver could offer him. Joshua couldn't ask for someone better.

Josh's heart is racing. His eyes are open, so dark and lusty and clouded and Oliver's aren't much different, not at all.

The walls allow the soft slurping to ricochet, quite like their heavy breathing. But Joshua could barely hear it over the blood rushing so loudly through his ears. The metal resting so heavily over his tongue makes Joshua's breath hitch, makes his blood boil, sets him on fire and ashes and Joshua could truly cry with the euphoria clashing his insides.

Oliver's foot is pressing right atop his crotch. He's hovering above Joshua so superiorly, staring him down with the very same insane thrill in his eyes because he is a god and Joshua is nothing, not even a speck of dust and yet he tries to insult the creator himself, tries to be bigger and better and god can't help the amusement that comes from that, one hand resting atop his own clothed dick whilst the other rests on his thigh, finger rubbing the outside part of the trigger, eyes so intently tearing Joshua open, following Josh's tongue with piercing eyes, his lips, his teeth that sometimes graze playfully over the barrel.

Joshua believes Oliver is crazy. Oliver believes Joshua is crazier. They're both mental, unbelievably out of it, so very insane. Joshua can't figure out how exactly the fuck did he end there but that's not a complain, definitely no.

Joshua's tongue flickers over the side of the barrel. Oliver's grip tightens on the gun. His heel presses down harder on Joshua. Joshua jerks his hips up, his hand tightening around Oliver's leg.

"You look like a fuckin dog," Oliver mutters. "Gonna start humping my leg any time now, huh?"

Joshua's eyes flutters. He grinds his hips forward against Oliver's heel. Oliver lets out a noisy exhale, almost a laugh.

"Fuckin mutt."

But, still, Oliver rocks his foot onto Joshua. Presses down, rubs Joshua so very nicely to the point where he's grunting, tongue now rubbing the inside of the barrel of Oliver's 22. 

It's warm now, tastes like metal and gunpowder, tastes like death. Fuck, maybe it is Joshua's death, maybe Joshua will finish like this. A gun inside his mouth and his dick fucking throbbing. Maybe Oliver will decide to go a little further and let his finger slip so slowly, press down just a little and then Joshua will be nothing more than a mess of bones, blood and brains plastered onto Oliver's walls. Joshua swallows dryly. He ignores the way that thought makes his guts burn.

"You get off so bad over this, eh?" Oliver speaks lowly, head tilting, throat rumbling. His eyes are picking Joshua piece by piece, shattering more and more before sewing them back together and it looks so damn wrong but now Joshua looks even more beautiful than before and this right here, this is what makes Joshua's gut churn so painfully nice. Oliver pieces him so bizarrely but so perfectly and Joshua is beyond grateful for this. Oliver pushes the gun a little further inside Joshua's mouth before pulling it back but not enough to make it slip from Joshua's lips. He pushes it back in again, then back out, in and out, in and out, not nearly as forcefully as Joshua know's he can. Joshua lets him fuck his mouth with the gun, jaw slacking, tongue still working frenetically.

"Can feel you twitchin down there. Hell, can feel you fuckin leaking through your pants. You, Joshua," An amused cackle. "Are so fucked up."

  
Joshua tilts his head back, lets the gun slip from his lips. They're glistening and even a little swollen and he's even more perfect before Oliver's gaze. Gorgeous.

"I'm not the one holding the gun," Joshua says with a small side grin before letting his lips rest on the gun. It's so wet with his saliva and he holds back the moan that built up from the glare Oliver is giving him and the way he presses his foot down even harder and the way his lips curl up so evilly. Oliver tsks. He squeezes himself before he's cupping Joshua's jaw, rubbing his stubble so kindly and gently and softly, fingertips tracing Josh's facial hair close to his ear before taking his hand back to Joshua's cheek, resting the gun on his thigh with a tight grip. But he's glaring, lips curled up but in a sneer, eyes dark with a lustful madness that makes Joshua's throat go dry. Joshua regrets opening his mouth. His heart pounds even harder against his ribcage.

Oliver strikes Joshua across the face so hard Joshua's torso follows his head to the side and he has to put his hand on the ground so he doesn't fall. Joshua's hand tightens in Oliver's leg whilst the other pushes him back up slowly. Josh's chest caves in. His cheek burns and he throbs and he truly can't feel the oxygen no matter how many times he inhales. Joshua licks his lips.

"I thought I told you to shut up," Oliver peeps up lightly, moving his foot away from Joshua. The look he has in his face is anything but light. Joshua swallows. Nods, place both hands on the couch between Oliver's legs, leaning his chin there to stare up at that marvellous man with the brightest eyes, doing it all so silently that makes the masked anger in Oliver's face lessen. Oliver places his free hand atop Joshua's curly hair. Threads his fingers through it softly, making Joshua's eyes flutter but don't shut. Oliver spreads his legs a little more, tugging lightly on Joshua's hair before he's fixing the collar of his button-up shirt, messing with his own fluffy brown hair. Joshua watches it all in awe. Oliver watches Joshua with a soft glint in his eyes.

Oliver loves how devoted Joshua is despite being such a damn brat. Loves how the world could fall apart around then and Joshua would still keep all of his attention in Oliver's every move, every breath. And Oliver loves how Joshua keeps it all in the bedroom and the bedroom only.

Oliver unzips his trousers. Doesn't unbuttons it, he remembers Joshua mentioning how hot he finds it when Oliver fucks him all dressed up. Oliver almost laughs at the way Joshua's eyes lighten up. He's leaning closer, fingers tight over the leathered couch, lips barely parted. Josh seems enchanted.

And Oliver is reaching through the opening and pulling himself out, letting his dick rest heavily towards Joshua. He's dripping with pre-come, pretty damn hard. And Joshua keeps his hooded eyes unmoving from it, mouth watering, lips barely parted. He looks truly stunning, waiting for Oliver's next order so impatiently but forcing himself to be patient.

"You can have it," Oliver murmurs, resting both his arms spread open atop the couch's back-rest. He's still aware of the gun on his hand but no, not now. Let's keep this as a plus for Joshua's ending. Joshua engulfs Oliver in his mouth immediately after he speaks, sucking hard on the tip, eyes getting trapped on Oliver's. Joshua's eyes flutter at the pleasure Oliver's desperately trying to hide. He bobs his head once, twice, three times before he grazes his teeth softly against the side, in a way that's not hurtful. Then he rubs his tongue fervourously against the more sensitive part of Oliver's staring up at his face with the same piercing eyes Oliver uses with him.

They're both breaking each other with their stare. They're both dissecting their bare essences and they're both seeing a pure part of each other that no one else could even dream of seeing. They're trusting each other with that part. They're trusting each other with the madness and the insanity and they're trusting each other to hold tightly onto as they lean backwards against the edge where the ground is the smallest sparkle of sanity and the void below is unknown but dreadable enough to make their adrenaline pulse throughout their souls.

They don't break the eye contact. Joshua leans forward as much as he can, unable to cover the bottom part of Oliver's cock. But that's okay, he's doing a good, great job. He's being a good boy, a good little servant, a good little mutt. Oliver could have snorted at the thought but the way Joshua hollows his cheeks around him keep his lips parted with heavy puffs escaping them. Joshua pulls back so only the tip's on his mouth. He teases, flickers his tongue all over the sensitive part, uses one hand to keep Oliver's leg on the same place as soon as he felt it involuntarily trying to close on him and then he's going down again, as much as he can before coming up before down again then up then down then he's bobbing his head so nicely that they both struggle to keep the eye contact. Oliver uses his free hand to tangle on Joshua's hair once more. He grunts and moans softly, head lulling back with a heavy sigh and a flutter of his eyes.

Oliver's guts are on fire and he's tight and his entire body is tingling and he's letting out a breathless "Joshua" before he tugs on his curls twice, raising his head to look down at him with a bite of his bottom lip. Feels good. Feels so good.

"Touch yourself," Oliver lets out strangledly. Joshua's hands are immediately leaving to unbutton his jeans, pulling himself out and wasting no damn time to stimulate himself. It doesn't feel as good as when Oliver does but it feels good enough, lets him fantasise enough, lets his brain go foggy enough, lets his instincts take over just enough. Joshua is teasing the tip once again. Oliver's too close for that shit, his dick is throbbing and leaking and he knows that Joshua can feel it, taste it.

He brings his other hand to the side of Joshua's head. The gun's pointing to his skull, right above his head. Oliver sees the hair of the back of his neck stand up. He pulls the safety off with a shaky but somehow steady finger.

Joshua freezes under the click. His dick twitches on his hand. He's leaking. His chest is tight and he can feel his stomach fluttering coldly. His eyes cautiously flicker up to Oliver.

Oliver huffs.

"Did I say that you could stop?"

Joshua inhales deeply. He's even closer now. He speeds his hand up, using his other one to grasp Oliver's knee, bobbing his head at a good pace now, eyes glancing up as Oliver's head tilted back. The gun's still pointing at Joshua's brain. Joshua's eyes flutter shut as a wave of pleasure almost knocks him out.

He's fucked. But there's no problem if it's with Oliver. He tries to go a little deeper, gagging immediately, eyes filling with tears. His gag reflex was never nice on him. But he puts himself together rather quickly, pushing Oliver against the wall of his cheek. Joshua let out a shaky breath. He squeezes his eyes shut to dry the water in them. With a throaty groan, Oliver's grip on his hair tightens before Joshua can taste the pleasure pulsing into his tongue string after string, Oliver's dick twitching warmly on his mouth. Joshua speeds his hand even more. Teases his own tip, bucks his hips against his fist. And Oliver's helping, he's pressing his gun right against his temple, muttering some strained praises because Joshua is "Doing so good for me, making me feel so well, being so nice, such a good little darling."

Joshua truly basks on the feeling at the moment. The high awareness of a loaded gun against his skin, the taste and knowledge that he can please Oliver so well, the way his heartbeat is so fast and his body is so thrilled and he can feel his heart and soul and body and mind and he's there, he's real, he's alive. Joshua comes all over his fist and pants easily. He's careless about the mess even if it will be kinda disgusting when his high has worn off. But he's can't be bothered with it right now. No, all he can do is swallow and try to make his breathing go steady. Joshua pulls back so Oliver's length slips off his lips. It's still hard and Joshua knows it will take a few to soften it up, the same as his because that's kinda like how dicks work but alright.

Joshua rests back on his heels, finally using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth off. Oliver is putting the safety back on and putting his gun away with a sigh, licking his lips and looking at Joshua with a completely new glint on his eyes. A thankful one. Joshua returns the look.

Moments passes and they're just getting themselves back together comfortably before Joshua is letting out a heavy sigh, putting himself back in his pants. He pushes himself up and his knees are shaky but they're quick to firm on the ground. Oliver puts himself back in too, watching Joshua's every move with his — it's not fondness but something close to it — gaze and he doesn't question why he can't pull his eyes away for a moment. The afterglow, maybe, the spark that surrounds Joshua is the cause. The way he looks so very different from what Oliver's been used to seeing. Joshua gathers his things contently before he got it all together, giving Oliver a small smile.

"See you monday, boss."

Oliver waves his hand before placing both his arms on the back of the couch.

"Told you not to call me that when we're off work."

Joshua grins a cheeky smile.

"My apologies, sir."

Oliver snorts. Shakes his head, smiles softly.

That's all Joshua says before he's out with a small jump on his step and a joy-filled expression on his face. He doesn't remember how he ended there, much less with someone who had so much power, but he's not complaining. No, he's alive. He's satisfied.


End file.
